I waited to post this until everything had settled into the new year. I hope you enjoy!
The pain increased and ripped through her body, building to an unbearable level, catching her breath. He grabbed her hand and squeezed.
The unpleasant aroma in the room was difficult to endure but the pain soon overshadowed the smell as it continued to course through her body and wash over her, leaving her lathered in sweat. In the background, she could hear an animal munching on hay. This is not how she had imagined it would be, although her simple upbringing had taught her not to expect too much. This, however, was unthinkable. A baby born in a barn. Everything seemed so wrong but she knew she was protected and loved. The man beside her cared for her but it was much more than that. As the pain crescendoed and released, she felt a strong relief and she knew everything would be okay. There was a deeper feeling in her heart that this was all an incredible gift that even she couldn't fully understand.
She pushed one more time and finally, her baby was born. A rush of emotions and endorphins covered her exhaustion and pain as she held him for the first time. Wrapping him in cloth, she held him close and thanked God for this moment.
She pulled the baby boy close and looked into his tiny face. The man beside her hugged her gently and sat down to enjoy the moment. Suddenly, she felt a strange emotion she had not expected—love. Not her love for her new son but his love for her. There was a fierce bond that she knew would never be broken. Before long, she would come to understand even more. Although in her heart she vowed to do anything she could for him, she had no idea that he would do everything for her.
For months, she had been ridiculed and blamed for something that was not her fault. This man had stood beside her through it all even though he should have left, for this was not his son, yet he had remained close and willing to stay with her. Her eyes moved to his face and they both smiled.
This is the kind of dedication and commitment that my husband, Coach Green, and I have known from this young man for years and I am so happy to introduce Matt Jones as the next recipient of The People of The Ville.
"After 1997, my high school coaches were and remain the most influential men in my life. I keep up with almost all of them to this day, nearly 20 years later. They were more than coaches to me, they were Father Figures and men that I could model myself after personally and professionally. Jerry Sharp, Mike Carswell, Tim Green, and Tommy Atha are some of the finest husbands, fathers, and men of character that I have ever known. They influence me to this day and I take a tremendous amount of advice from all of them. Another person that is a great influence in my life is Mitch Jordan. Mitch and I coached together at Darlington from 2004-2007 and I talk to him every day. I value his opinion and guidance as a man, a husband and father, and as a coach.
Currently, my newest writing project is about the 1998 Tiger football team. Can you tell me about what it was like to be on that team?
What is your favorite memory of that year?
You recently won District and State Coach of the Year. Tell us about this past year's team.
This is the last thing…tell me something you want us to know about you that we haven't already covered above.
It was a great privilege to get a chance to highlight a hard-working and dedicated man like Coach Matt Jones. My latest book project is scheduled for release in the coming months and highlights him and his teammates from the 1998 team from Rome, Georgia. The character of Coach Jones is indicative of the entire team from that year. Congratulations to Matt Jones for being the latest People of The Ville honoree! He and his family are welcome assets to our community.
Inversion Hike: Can You Conquer the Valley?
My husband and I like to hike and we have been on many trails through the years. I've heard several people speak about their experiences on a mountaintop or a trail and how this proximity to nature inevitably produces the proverbial "mountaintop experience" of feeling closer to God. In life, these experiences don't have to physically be on the top of a mountain; but as a hiker, my husband and I often speak of the spiritual experience we have as well as the physical one of conquering a difficult climb.
Recently, we took a trip out west and reversed our hiking experience by hiking down into a canyon. When hiking on a mountain, you typically climb up for a few hours and reach a summit and then pause to enjoy the views and you feel exhilarated that you have conquered the climb. The hike back down is a more relaxing pace, giving you time to reflect on the experience. Canyon hiking is quite the opposite. We started our 17 1/2 mile trek the first day by going down for about 1 1/2 miles and then found ourselves in the valley of the canyon for most of the remainder of the hike that day. Although there were a few areas we had to climb, most of the hike was not too hard and the only danger was the rocky trail, which made looking up at the amazing views of the canyon more difficult. I found this type of hiking so interesting. For years we have worked our way up a mountain and savored the views at the end but this time the views were in the middle of the hike and the most difficult portion of the hike was at the end of the second day 8-mile hike, where we had to climb back out of the canyon when we were already exhausted. I termed it an "inversion hike", a play on the term inversion, which we sometimes encounter when the clouds are below us as we summit a mountain.
Something occurred to me during that experience in the canyon. When I was walking through the canyon floor and picking my way through the rocky terrain, I couldn't help but feel the analogy of a "valley experience" of life just like the mountain ridge has always reminded me of the "mountaintop experience". The feeling of being surrounded by canyon walls on all sides was intimidating as I knew the only way out was to climb back up. That revelation was a powerful reality that proved physically difficult as well. While standing on the canyon floor, we were able to look up and be amazed by God's creation all around us but we also knew that those canyon walls were tall and our battered bodies would face the most difficult part of the hike when we were the most tired. We finished day two with the 1 1/2 mile ascent and when we reached the top of that canyon wall, as tired as we were, we both felt great that we had conquered the trail. This time, however, we weren't at the top of a mountain at all, we were just dead even—on level ground. All that work and we were back where we had started. It made me reflect on how I approach a "valley" in my own life. As I thought about the days on that trail, I realized that maybe we don't always understand how to get out of a valley. Do we depend solely on God to get us out or do we understand that it might take a great deal of effort on our part to climb the side of the wall? My husband and I are in good shape but even so, we had to encourage each other to get out of that canyon the second day and it was a great asset to have each other along the way. It made me reflect on how much my friends and family have meant to me when I needed them…but there were times when I tried to do it all alone and found myself slipping back into the valley over and over again. God wants to be our helper and our guide out of that valley. Although He has the power to do it without any help from us or anyone else, I believe that the climb can be part of our healing and the lessons of dependence on Him and others may be the most valuable part of the experience. As my husband and I reached the crest of the canyon wall we were exhausted and spent but our journey was not over. We still needed to drive back to town…another four hours in the car… another journey was just beginning. This made me realize that our mountains and valleys are just a small part of the overall journey.
This excursion was a good physical analogy for me as I reflected on the "valleys" in my walk through life. The next time I find myself in a valley of some kind, I hope that I will remember the "inversion hike" example and these three things: First, it takes an effort to climb out of a valley. That mile and a half back up the side of that canyon was tough after hiking so much. We were tired and ready to finish but there was no way to get out of there until we got up that trail and we just had to take it one step at a time until we reached the top. God is there for you and will help you but you've got to make an effort yourself. Second, it's much easier to get through a bad time with some encouragement from someone else. If you know someone who's having a struggle of some kind, a simple word of encouragement might do more for them than you will ever know; but if you're the one in the valley, remember not to turn away help from someone who is reaching out to you. It's hard to get out of that valley alone and there's no reason why you should. Third, even though my husband and I worked incredibly hard to get up the side of that canyon, we ended up on level ground—not one step higher than where we had started…and that was difficult to know that we were just at the start of another journey… it wasn't over. I think sometimes we expect God to not only deliver us from our valleys with no effort on our part but we also expect Him to deliver us to a place that we feel that we deserve or at least to an ending point where we can rest, but it may only be the beginning of a new direction or journey in our lives.
In reality, we need valleys to understand our dependence on God, our friends, and an understanding that not everything can be a mountain. Even in the depth of that canyon, I saw God all around me in the amazing cliffs that loomed overhead. Valley's in our life can be deep and require a long climb up and we will need to put in some effort to get there. Along the way we might need some friends to encourage or even help us and we definitely need Him every step of the journey. When we finally find ourselves on flat level ground again, the journey is not over but is just starting in a new direction. Whether you are on top of a mountain, in the lowest of valleys or somewhere in between…He is with you always.
With strong family ties to the area, our latest People of The Ville honoree gives us a look into the past of our great city. Bill Beam, Jr. and his family have a long residence in Louisville with family history dating back to 1798 when his fifth great-grandfather, Captain Peter Fontaine, whose property later became known as Fountain Ferry Park, arrived in Louisville. Bill also explained that this was not the earliest arrival to Kentucky and "many family members lived in Kentucky (primarily in Frankfort, Shelbyville and the Bardstown area) years before the state's admission to the union in 1792".
Bill attended Kentucky Country Day and graduated in 1976. He then went to Tulane University, where he graduated with a degree in political science. Bill knew his wife Monette for several years via mutual friends and when they encouraged him to make contact, he did. His first attempt to take her on a date was thwarted, but she accepted his second try and they will soon celebrate their 20th anniversary this New Year's Eve. Monette is also from the area and works as a real estate agent. They are both avid Louisville Cardinal fans as well as fans of the New Orleans Saints, Miami Dolphins, and Tulane University Green Wave.
The Plainview area is connected to your family. Can you share a little about this part of your family?
Folks who know you are aware you have many notables in your family tree. Can you name some of your connections?
Jacob Garr: owned several large tracts of land in Jefferson County including what is today known as the Plainview area.
Robert C Tway Sr: Owner of R.C. Coal Company, Kentucky Trailer, Plainview Farms Dairy, two-time World Champion Five-Gaited American Saddlebred "Plainview's Julia", built a majestic home listed on the Historic Registry.
Tell us a little about your children.
Who was the most influential person in your life and why?
I honestly don't think any kicking will be necessary. Thank you, Bill, for being our next honoree for The People of The Ville!
Years ago, when my children were small, we used to have a "Thankful Tree". The idea was not my own but borrowed from somewhere long before the internet was so large and ideas for such things were plentiful. If you've never heard of this, it's simple. I would draw a large tree on paper (I used to get the end rolls from a newspaper office) and then tape the picture on a prominent wall in our home. I used colorful leaves cut from construction paper—enough for all six of us for every day in November. Every day, each of us would take one leaf and write on it something we were thankful for and then tape the leaf to the tree. By the end of the month, the tree would be full and the visual was excellent for the girls to see how much we could be thankful for instead of dwelling on what we didn't have.
The interesting part of this story is how little we did have at the time. I was staying home and my husband was a teacher and coach. Raising four kids on that small salary was challenging but God was so much bigger. When we first decided to keep me home, we had no idea how it would happen; but as I've posted before, He came through in mighty ways. One post years ago I told the story of how I continued to dip into a box of detergent that was essentially empty and yet there was always enough for one more load. At a time when I had to do at least three loads of laundry a day and with no money to buy more detergent at that time, it was a testimony to me how He had my back…even on laundry.
We were not really poor…but we didn't have any excess. We had a home, cars, clothing, and food so it's hard to say that we were really destitute; but we were at the very least struggling every month to make ends meet.
I remember one time when we lived in Charleston…I took the girls to watch a basketball game at the school just so they could see their dad, who was then and still is an athletic director and is gone many hours from home. We usually brought snacks from home to go anywhere and never dreamed of using a concession stand (way out of our budget). Occasionally, I would buy one small pack of candy and split it among us all and that was a splurge for us.
We went to the game that one night and something wonderful happened. A sweet and amazing woman from the school asked me if she could buy each of the girls a pack of candy from the concession stand. I was dumbfounded but agreed to let her. It was one of the sweetest gestures anyone had done for us in a long time and the girls were so funny. I sat and watched as their large brown eyes absorbed what was happening with disbelief. They each timidly reached for their candy and stared at the bag as if it would disappear if they looked away. It made me sad and happy all at the same time and it was beautiful to see how much they appreciated every last piece. One of them only ate a few pieces that night and saved her bag of M&M's to eat over the next week— a few pieces at a time every day.
Even though we had very little, I baked that Christmas and we gave away some simple baked goods to all our neighbors and the girl's teachers. It wasn't much, but our girls witnessed our giving out of our small supply.
About two years later something else happened that amazed me. We were working on our Thankful Tree and one of our girls took a leaf and wrote what she was thankful for just like we always did every day. When I collected the leafs to tape on the wall, I noticed her leaf simply said: "M&M's". Turning to her, I had to ask what she meant by such a bizarre response. Not that we didn't like candy or anything, but I wasn't sure what she meant.
"What do you mean by M&M's?" I asked.
As I turned to place the leaf on the tree, I choked back tears and thanked God one more time for all He has provided through the years…even M&M's.
I have been a football coaches wife for years. It's a unique and awesome experience and my new book (still working on) is about one year in particular but is also about the incredible and sometimes heartbreaking times that we all have to endure for that one moment when it all comes together.
This season and last I decided to experience it all in a new way. For years, I have sat in wind, rain, snow, and heat. I have stood along the fence to allow my kids time to stretch their legs. Many years I spent in the stands cheering and crying alongside the other parents. Several times, I sat in a dark van along the parking lot with a sick child to try to catch glimpses of the struggle on the field. There are moments when I wanted to scream for joy and others when I felt anger well to the point of a near explosion. Whether it was a poor referee call or a comment from someone in the stands or maybe a rowdy group across the field, I was always a Tiger…or a Cyclone…and the last 15 years a tried and true Bearcat.
There isn't much that a 51-year-old woman can give a team to help them on their journey through the season. I gave up my husband to the hours of film and coaching, but I found that I had given something else that I had no idea would happen. I pulled my camera up one last time to try to capture the field but it wouldn't turn on. The battery had failed…but the camera was dead too. This camera has clicked thousands of pictures through the years and I'm honored that it plowed through this season so well. Smiling, I packed it away and felt another layer of sadness and I thought about those cleats mid-field so many years ago. Part of me wanted to leave my camera there last night…I gave what I could…my husband…my time…and now my camera.
The 2017 Bearcat Football season has ended…but now we will see what these young men will accomplish in life. To them I say…give LIFE all that you have.
What do Kim Kardashian and Warren Buffet have in common?
For, all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever. And this was the word that was preached to you.
If you're a movie buff, you have probably heard or seen the movie Hacksaw Ridge which portrays the amazing story of Desmond Doss, who saved 75 men without carrying a weapon or firing a gun during WWII. This story is truly amazing and I'm sincerely glad that it was brought to the theater for us all to experience and understand what this man accomplished. There are so many people who are never really exposed as heroes and in my series The People Of The Ville, I've tried to highlight a few. More on that later.
This verse from 1 Peter above reminds me of how short our time is here in this world. So many people today are in the news: athletes, movie stars, musicians, politicians…all with a sense of self-importance and maybe they even think that they will be remembered forever…but they will not. Can you name a single musician from 100 years ago? Some of you might be able to do so but the point is that we are "like grass" and our "glory is like the flowers of the field." No matter how much we might adore someone today, they will be forgotten in a short time and replaced by other names. I find it amusing and somewhat sad at how many people spend their lives amassing fortunes or trying to leave a lasting impression of some kind. I think it's ironic that a small girl during the Holocaust has become a hero of sorts with a name that most people are familiar with and she had no idea that her diary would become the focus of so many books and movies. I'm sure Anne Frank was only dreaming of a day when she could be free to be a normal teenager instead of fearing for her life every day.
Keep your eyes fixed on the word of the Lord which this verse says will "endure forever". There are only so many days here for each of us…make them count in a way that brings glory to Him and not to yourself. Our glory will fade…no matter how important we might think we are.
As a child, I was afraid of going into my basement. I remember running down and up to get something and singing at the top of my lungs, thinking that would help. When I was older, I was staying with an aunt when I had a horrible experience.
In Physical Therapy school, you do rotations that are similar to a residency but shorter. One of mine was in Birmingham, Alabama, where my mom's twin sister lived. She had a wonderful room in her basement that opened out into a large family room, complete with workout equipment and a large TV. When she invited me to stay there, I was thrilled.
One weekend, my aunt and uncle went out of town and I was left in the house alone. I came home on Friday after my shift at the rehab center and decided to enjoy a quiet evening studying some of the articles given to me to read. After making my dinner and working out, I took a shower and bundled up in the bed with my articles, thankful that I could sleep in the next day.
Propping up on my pillows, I was about halfway through my second article when I heard a loud noise above me. It was distinct and purposeful like someone had knocked over something in the dark. Immediately, my heart began to race and I tried to remain calm. This was years before people carried any kind of cell phone and the nearest phone that I could use was outside my bedroom in the middle of the family room.
After a long pause, I sighed, remembering my aunts' cat and almost laughed at my own fear until I realized she was laying at my feet. This meant that there was no way she could have caused the noise. Even though I knew this, I still felt like there had to be a logical explanation and hopefully, I'd just left something on the edge of a counter and it had just slipped off the edge. After my mind sped through those options, I began to relax and leaned back again on the pillows. Within a few more seconds, another sound triggered my heart rate again—it was footsteps. Someone was in the house and there was no doubt about it this time. The footsteps continued and I could hear this person clearly moving above me.
Almost immediately, I felt calm and even though seconds before I could barely breathe, suddenly I was clear-headed and I knew what I needed to do. Slowly, I slipped out of my bed and flattened my body to the floor, moving toward the phone to call for help.
As soon as I the operator came on the phone, I could hear the person above me run toward the front door and exit the house. Within seconds, I relayed to the police operator what was happening and they sent help right away. After all the investigations, they determined that I had arrived home and startled a burglar, who in turn hid in a closet until he thought I was asleep. He was trying to sneak out when he heard me yell and he panicked and ran away. This event scared me so much that I had difficulty staying alone for some time; but I eventually conquered that fear. During that night, I remember just praying and crying out to God to keep me safe. The police told me that I was incredibly lucky and that I could have been murdered that night or in the very least, assaulted. For some reason, that man didn't do either and for that I am thankful.
I believe with all my heart that God heard my prayer that night and He protected me. Why did I call my mom first? Why did she tell me to do that? She didn't remember even telling me that the next day. It was so strange. All of it. And no one could explain any of it.
I sincerely, hope that you are never in a situation like that; but we are all scare of something at different times in our lives. Not just sudden gripping fear like I had that night; but fear that is gnawing at us and controlling our emotions in a way that God never intended. He tells us repeatedly (hundreds of times actually) not to fear and to trust in Him. This verse, though, says that "when I fear" so I think He fully expects us to have some fear at different times. When we do, He wants us to "put our trust in Him". I can tell you that I had no other choice that night. I had to trust that He would keep me safe. I did all that I could but I was helpless and trapped. He rescued me and reminded me that He was and always is in control.
Prayer seems so simple. We are told to just ask and God will hear us; but do you feel like you've been ignored?
Some time ago I went through a difficult time with my health. There seemed to be no answer medically and my symptoms only worsened over time. My weight was dropping and I was scary thin. I remember preparing myself for death and thinking through all that I needed to do in order to get my family settled. I started cleaning out cluttered areas and even gave away some of my clothes, trying to make it easier for my family if I passed away. The most difficult part was thinking about my precious daughters and my amazing husband. I was so grief-stricken for them, not just for myself; but then one day…I fell apart.
I tried to understand why God would let this happen to me and why would he give me such a great family and then strip me away from it all, leaving my children without a mother and my husband without a wife. It was then that I found myself helpless and alone and afraid…for the first time in my life.
Weeks of testing and thousands of dollars out of our own pocket were squeezed, leaving our family budget a mess as the doctors tried everything. For a while, I think that they might have even thought that I was having some type of psychological illness. Depression enveloped me but I choose to swallow it deep inside and never let anyone see how bad it really was. As my clothes hung from my body, I was annoyed when people said things like: "You look great!" I was under 100 pounds when one woman said this to me and I seriously thought about punching her in the mouth.
As I laid in bed each night, exhausted from not being able to eat anything, I would wait until my husband and children were asleep and I would either sneak down to the basement alone or lay in the darkness as quietly as possible and pray. I cannot express to you how lonely I felt. There was a deep and terrible pain that engulfed me and I couldn't share it with my best friend (my husband) because he was grieving too and trying to hide his fear as well. We never said it but we both knew I was dying.
Heaven seemed silent, although I felt some comfort when I prayed. Why couldn't I get better? Why had my body seemingly rejected food? The tests were all either inconclusive or negative, so in a way, I was glad they didn't find cancer or something incurable; but not knowing and your body shutting down are just as bad at that point because there is no answer.
Without going into all the history, I was basically unable to eat anything without getting very sick or having terrible pain or both. Even water was difficult at times when my body would be at its worst levels of pain. The only thing I could do was sip on sweet tea to try to get some sugar in my body to stay alive. Occasionally, I would try to eat again and the pain would be back. Most of the time, I choose hunger over pain.
After multiple GI tests and a CT scan, they determined that maybe I should see my OBGYN since my mother had died of ovarian cancer. I'll never forget when they found the mass that had been missed on the CT scan. There was a sudden change in the demeanor of the nurse and she quickly went to get a doctor. Within minutes, they were scheduling surgery and three days later I had a total hysterectomy and oophorectomy, where they found additional tumors on the other ovary as well that had also been missed on all other tests. Fortunately, all were benign.
My ordeal didn't end there, but the pain levels were better and I could eat some again. Someday I may go into more detail; but let's say that after that day, I still had another year of torment until my husband saw a pattern with my pain and my eating that led me to get off corn and wheat as much as possible and I can now say that I am about 99% symptom free today.
Staring at my phone, I could almost hear God saying for me to relax and that He had this. Trust Him. It will all be okay.
Part of me scoffed at the thought of relaxing but from that time forward I changed my prayers from "Please heal me" to "Please just help us find a way to get through this" and almost instantly I began to feel Him more every time I prayed. Something changed in my heart every day as I increased my prayers and stopped asking for Him to heal me. Incredibly, it was the very next day that my husband realized the pattern with my symptoms—something no one else had seen before even after creating a food diary for weeks.
Even though my body was never healed, I was able to find a path to eat again and now I'm healthy and happy and feel great. Without a doubt, I will always believe that He put the idea in my husband's head about the relation of my diet and my illness.
This is the second time that God has taught me this lesson in such a drastic way and I'm sure He is amazed that it took so much to get my attention again. God knows me better than anyone and knew I would be okay; but even if I hadn't, His ways are still better than mine. Whatever His path is for my life, I choose His.
The story is not over, though. Through all of my tests and problems, I learned an incredible amount of information that has helped me explain and understand much of what is happening with the children that I work with in my job as a pediatric PT. Any child with GI issues has my immediate sympathy and I've been able to help their families understand more about the issues as well as recognize them in advance. Even though my ordeal was less than pleasant; it has become such a blessing in my work to be able to help others with their journey.
I sincerely hope that you all are healthy, well, and happy; but remember that this is not what we are promised. Pain and trials are coming to us all and we can find our best hope on our knees.
The hurricane coverage is dominating the news right now. The stories of loss and devastation are difficult to watch; but there are other stories of survival and the camaraderie of the human spirit. Every time a natural disaster hits some part of the world, it makes me realize once again how much we depend on God for safety and security.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble.
I lived in Florida during Hurricane Camille years ago. I remember having to leave and not knowing if we'd have a home to return to. Fortunately, we were spared; but many others were not. Even though I've not experienced a hurricane while it raged around me, I'm sure many of you, like me, have been hit with a "hurricane" of life. Recently, I was hit with a few category 1's and 2's but I've been hit with a 5 before with the loss of my mom a few weeks before my wedding. There have been other "storms" in my life that were not as severe but all left some type of mark on my life.
Through these times of devastating "winds" and "rain", I had to learn not to let the "storm surge" overcome me. The only way that I could do that was to lean on Him. It was during those times that I discovered what it was like to let God "strengthen me" and "help me".
I pray that you will find His peace and strength during your times of trouble.